Faye Eastland was not a pretty girl by the standards of the time.  Not homely, but not a beauty.  Part of her awkwardness was probably due to her being so shy and reticent to engage with anyone.  That, in turn, could be directly attributed to her mother, and the fact that her mother never had a good thing to say about Faye, nor much else, really.  The woman was bitter and surely, not traits that made her a nurturing presence in Faye’s early childhood.

Mrs. Eastland could never remember Faye bringing a friend home after school, being invited to a birthday party, or asked to sleep over at a friend’s house.  She assumed it was because of her daughter’s awkwardness.  She had no idea it was because young Faye would have avoided anything that would have exposed her mother to those whom she went to school with.  It was easier to be by herself.  That’s the same thing she figured her father must have decided when he left her mother, Faye was just a young girl at the time.

Having never received the attention of young boys her age in school, much less their affections, Faye was overwhelmed with emotions when Dev Jack zeroed in on her with his charms and intentions.  She was in her Senior year at Jim Bowie High, resigned to seeking employment in a secretarial position, if she was lucky, and saving enough to move out of the ramshackle bungalow near the railroad tracks she shared with her mother.

Dev Jack bumped into Faye at the Rex Hall while she was picking up an ointment for her mother. Dev was purchasing condoms, though that fact was not apparent to Faye.  He complimented her dress, which made her feel lightheaded, and then said something about the color of her eyes, which made her feel what it must be like to be loved.  Dev had a way about him.

Dev was short for Devon.  He’d served in Korea and returned home to Crane once he was discharged from the Army.  Crane hadn’t changed and neither had Devon Jack, and the two were not a good fit.  He left town to visit his cousin in Fort Stockton and didn’t see a reason to return to Crane, much to his cousin’s dismay.

Dev’s gifts were charming young women and picking locks, neither of which made him popular with parents or local authorities.  Despite her poor eyesight Faye’s mother saw through Devon Jack the first time she laid eyes on him and warned her daughter that ‘Dev’ was short for ‘devil’ and she’d do well to steer clear of him and his sweet-talking ways.  Advice she’d come by the hard way.

But Dev was an attractive older man who made Faye’s knees go weak when he looked into her eyes and told her things nobody had ever told her before.  Despite her intentions to remain virtuous until her wedding night, the words Dev whispered into her ear as they reclined in the back of his Mercury Monterey wagon went beyond making her knees weak, they made them spread like butter.  Using the other of his two talents, Dev picked her lock.  The condoms he’d purchased at the Rex Hall Drug were nowhere to be found at that particular juncture (in fact, they had been used charming other young girls), but Dev assured her she didn’t have anything to worry about if it was her first time.  His knowledge of biology was surpassed only by his gift of persuasion.  Faye found herself with child shortly thereafter.

His first thought upon hearing the news, was that it might be time to head west.  He’d always wanted to see California.  A chain of events involving Faye’s mother, Chief Martin, and Dev’s cousin ended up in a quick ceremony at Second Baptist Church of Fort Stockton and Devon Jack’s hopes of seeing the Golden State forever dashed.  Daniel Jack was born seven and a half months later.

Years later, Daniel Jack’s best friend would nickname the boy ‘Whiskey’ and that’s what he would go by the rest of his life.

The Jack couple rented a mobile home at Modern Manor Mobile Home Village outside Fort Stockton and settled into what Faye hoped would be domestic bliss.  Of course, Dev’s lack of abilities as a husband were only surpassed by his lack of desire to be a father.  His days working were quickly outnumbered by his days spent at The Scuttlebutt.  Rent was often late, the efforts of the Caring Committee at Second Baptist the only reason the young family had food on the table.

Somehow Dev managed to keep gas in the Monterey. Most of the time it was washed and waxed, as well. Probably because that is the only way Dev’s sense of self worth could be assuaged; his abilities in all the other areas men normally take pride in were completely lacking.  

That was the car Faye drove little Daniel in as she delivered him to his first day of school at Alamo Elementary.  His first grade teacher, Mrs. Culberson, noted the bruises on Faye Jack’s face, but didn’t ask any questions.  She saw how Mason McCullough took a shine to his classmate right off the bat.  She figured the friendship would be good for the shy boy from the mobile home park.  Kids from out at ‘the village’ tended to struggle in school.  Those whose mothers came in bruised struggled even more.  The socialization with Mason would help the boy.

Whiskey had inherited his father’s good looks and his mother’s sweet disposition.  He was a quiet kid who didn’t laugh much, even on the playground.  Other kids thought he might be Hispanic because his skin was several shades darker than the average white kid.  In reality, he was just very tanned, a result of being outside in the elements so much as to avoid the conflict that took place inside the house his parents tried to cohabitate in.

By the time Daniel had started school it had been a couple years since Faye had taken permanent steps to be sure he never had a sibling.  Normally Doc Brown would have insisted the husband be involved in making that decision.  But he’d treated enough of Faye’s injuries that he knew the last thing she could handle would be another child to try to feed and protect.  Not to say that the possibility of half siblings for the boy sprinkled around Fort Stockton weren’t a possibility, if not likelihood.  Just like there were no shortages of men like Dev in small towns all over the south, there was no shortage of women who viewed them as a better alternative than what they already had.  Lucinda says to this day, “Women are stupid and men are no damn good.”

The thing that gives women like Faye the strength to go on is the hope that the man they have fallen in love with will change.  That one day they will see the pain they’ve caused and repent.  Vow to be better and follow through.  Seek help.  And some do.  But not enough, and not in the case of Faye and Devon Jack and their little boy.

It was during one of those moments of hope that Dev came home sober and excited.  “We’re goin’ campin’.  Getting out of Dodge.  Teach the boy how to fish, and hike, and do something other than stare at the dirt like a moron.”  Luckily Daniel hadn’t heard the reference and Faye skipped right over it in hopes that this would be the day things took a turn.  She looked out the window next to the dinette and saw that there was a new camping trailer hooked up to the Monterey.

A woman looking for hope can see right past red flags.

“Pack up.  We’re gonna leave in half an hour,” Dev said.  “Pack some food in an ice chest while I get the fishin’ gear out of the shed out back.”  

Faye did as she was told, like always, but this time with the faintest of smiles on her face.  She packed up what food there was in the Kelvinator along with some canned goods that she figured she could make a few meals out of over a campfire.  When she carried the cooler out to the back of the wagon and opened the tailgate she noticed there was already a cooler back there.  When she opened the lid and saw it was full of Pearl beer, she said to herself, ‘he needs to relax, that’ll just help.’

A half hour later they were headed west towards the Glass Mountains, Fort Stockton getting progressively smaller in the rear view mirror, Daniel in the backseat of the Mercury playing with a couple Tootsietoy cars Mason had given him.  The radio hummed with Hank Williams songs on the radio, till they got too far away for reception.  “Grab me one of them beers from the cooler behind you, kid,” Dev said looking in the mirror.  “Grab the church key out of the glove box,” he told Faye.  There was a trail of empties tossed out the window all the way to where they stopped to set up camp.

Faye made a dinner of pork and beans, bacon and eggs, and toast over the campfire later that evening.  Slurring his words, Dev made it clear after the sun had gone down that he felt his efforts at being a family-man  should be rewarded with the opportunity to conduct some hanky-panky, something that Faye had long lost her desire for.  But, once he thought the boy was asleep on the bed that had been the dinette earlier, Dev was not to be denied in the bed he shared with his wife four feet away.

The next morning Faye tasted the familiar taste of blood in her mouth as a punishment for forgetting to pack coffee.  “Never mind.  I’ll have a beer,” Dev said after he slapped her.  Daniel, relieving himself behind a tree about fifteen yards away, recognized the sounds of what was taking place in the camper and wanted to stay hidden behind the tree forever.  But he feared not coming back quickly at the sound of his father calling him would make him even angrier.

Ten minutes later Dev and the boy were gathering the gear they’d need for the inaugural fishing lesson.  As they pulled everything out of the back of the Mercury, the hooks on the fishing rods got tangled.  The harder the boy worked to untangle the hooks, line, and rods, the more entwined they became.  Tears started to form in his eyes, making it even harder to sort the mess out.  He wasn’t prepared for the same sting his mother had experienced earlier and it knocked him to the ground.

What he heard as he laid on the ground sounded like a watermelon being dropped onto a hard surface.  What it actually was, however, was the smooth rock Faye still had firmly gripped in her hand.  The sound was not a watermelon, but the rock meeting the side of Dev’s skull just above his temple.  When the boy turned and looked, he saw his father twitch and spasm beside him.  The second blow, in just about the same spot on his head, made Dev go still.  The look in his mother’s eyes would remain with Daniel Jack forever.

The Pecos County Sheriff didn’t take long to rule the death accidental.  The alcohol in Dev’s system, the fact that the camper had been stolen, the marks on Faye’s face and a phone call to Chief Martin made it easy to attribute the unfortunate occurrence to a fall.  Faye and her son drove the Mercury wagon back to Modern Manor Mobile Home Village and parked it behind their mobile home.  They never drove it again.  They never sold it.  They never took the fishing gear out of the back end of the car.  It deteriorated in the West Texas sun, a decaying memorial to an event neither would ever forget, but would never speak of to each other again.

It was years later, when they were in high school, that Whiskey shared the details of his father’s early demise.  Mason accepted the story at face value, without asking questions.  Eileen, always eager to hear the details of such things, had not refrained from getting down into the weeds of the subject when she had the chance.